


Brat vs Housewife

by meanestvenus



Series: Midwestern Eden [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Drunken Flirting, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Female Billy Hargrove, Female Steve Harrington, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Love/Hate, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Angst, Steve Harrington Needs Love, bratty Billy Hargrove, hate sex vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanestvenus/pseuds/meanestvenus
Summary: “That’s a funny way of saying please," Billy said, holding Stevie's drink away from her.“You’re in my house drinking my alcohol, idiot.”Billy grinned wider.“Guess this one’s mine,” she said, and took a sip. Stevie stared at her, utterly unimpressed, which seemed to just amuse Billy more.“If you’re that desperate for a secondhand kiss, there’s also a fork I used in the sink.”/Billy and Stevie don't do any math homework.





	Brat vs Housewife

**Author's Note:**

> This series is missing a section with a party in it that I didn't want to write but hopefully it still makes sense, otherwise please enjoy. Also, for some unexplainable reason in my headcanon Stevie's mom is a former starlet. Also, Jonathan is Jane etc
> 
> I imagine Billy looks exactly like Betty's mom in that 80s flashback episode of Riverdale. Google it, I promise you won't be disappointed.

When she opened the door, Billy was dressed in fishnets, tiny jean shorts and a slick leather jacket. Stevie cocked an eyebrow at the outfit, not even bothering to tell Billy how stupid she looked in the snow. Billy smiled and cracked her gum, flicking her eyes up and down Stevie’s body, all messy eyeliner that looked unfairly good. 

“Didn’t know you liked Metallica so much,” she said mischievously. 

Shit. She was wearing the shirt Billy lent her that one time. There was no way Stevie could pretend it was her own, or even anyone else’s— the lettering was faded, the hem a little messy and it was tighter than anything she owned. Stevie regretted not throwing it straight into the trash, torching it, at least changing into something—anything— else. Who would have thought Billy ever got anywhere early? 

“Take off your shoes,” she said, because she didn’t want to say something to embarrass herself further. 

“You like wearing something that smells like me?” Billy purred as Stevie stepped further back in the hallway. Stevie tried to snort but it didn’t come off quite as casual as she hoped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m doing about two months’ worth of laundry.” 

Billy stepped in, closing the door behind her. 

“You’re gonna be a pretty little housewife,” she said, following Stevie to the kitchen. Stevie rolled her eyes. 

There was a moment of silence as Stevie debated having a drink. She wasn't doing anything today and she was an irresponsible teenager. Well, questionably responsible. Besides, maybe it would help her put up with Billy's bullshit. She wasn't exactly eager to do any schoolwork and she definitely didn't want to look eager to Billy. Billy had enough to tease her about. 

She opened the cabinet that she kept her parents’ alcohol in when they were gone so she didn’t have to fuss with her dad’s study or the wine cellar. 

“Scotch, rum or vodka?” She asked. She didn’t like wine and she was pretty certain Billy didn’t either. 

Billy leaned deep into her space as she looked in the cabinet, practically hooking her chin over Stevie’s shoulder. Stevie fought the urge to push her away, which would just make Billy laugh and feel like she’d won. Billy’s soft, obnoxiously curly hair brushed the side of her cheek. 

“Which one’s more expensive?” She asked pensively. 

Stevie paused, turning her head to look at Billy even though they were so close. Billy seemed to be considering the labels. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Stevie asked. 

Billy stepped away and hopped up on the granite covered island behind them. 

“It’s not every day I drink something that’s not piss weak beer. C’mon, Harrington, don’t you know how to treat a girl right?” 

“You invited yourself,” Stevie said indignantly, looking back at her. 

Billy grinned, blew a bubble. Stevie sighed and reached for the Johnnie Walker Black. There was something that tasted better about expensive booze, but only if you knew that it was expensive. Plus it made her feel a little bit better about herself when she was drinking alone because she sort of had no friends. 

As she set it down and reached for glasses, she saw Billy’s tanned hand with cherry red nails shoot out and grab it. She turned around to see Billy drinking from the bottle. 

“Jesus, you’re an animal,” she said, disgusted. 

Her parents were going to want to drink from that bottle again— unless she finished it so they wouldn’t remember having it when they finally turned up again. Looked like she would have to finish it, but at least Billy would help. 

Billy swallowed more, never taking her eyes from Stevie’s. She pulled off, holding it out to Stevie and wiping her shining lips with the back of her hand. 

Stevie gingerly tilted it against her mouth. She hated drinking straight unless she was already plastered, but she wasn’t about to let Billy Hargrove, Professional Badass, know that. 

Billy grinned ferally, as if she knew Stevie didn’t like to drink without mixers. She looked past Billy at the couch, the tv on low. Billy took her gum out and pasted it to the underside of the island’s counter. Stevie instinctively opened her mouth to say something and choked on the liquid, sputtering. Her eyes watered as she coughed. Billy laughed, throwing her golden hair back. 

“Careful you don’t kill yourself, princess. Don’t want to be accused of murder.” Stevie set the bottle down. 

“Give it an hour, I guarantee somebody’s going to be dead.” 

Billy leaned out, her hands braced on the granite ledge, her pink tongue flicking around her lips to catch the last of the taste. 

“Sounds like fun. But first, where’s this pool I keep hearing about? I didn’t get to take a dip last time.” 

Stevie’s spine went cold. 

She quickly turned around and picked up the glasses, taking a moment to make sure her breathing sounded normal. Her heartbeat stuttered in her neck, and she swallowed thickly. (White lights. Red hair. Black. Ice blue water. Nate. Coors light. Glasses. Cigarettes. Chlorine. Black, black, black.)  
She gripped the glasses until she could feel the carvings in the crystal digging into her skin. And then she opened the fridge for the coca cola. 

“You must have heard wrong. The pipes broke in the fall.”

“That so?” Billy said, and when Stevie turned around, her head was cocked and eyes narrowed. 

Stevie shoved the glasses into Billy’s chest, and the bottle of coke in her hand. 

“Make yourself helpful, asshole. And throw your gum in the trash can. I’m going to turn the tv on.” 

She held onto the glasses for an extra second, and Billy’s long fingers wrapped around hers. Then she walked into the living room, itching to be further away from the windows. She unpaused the VCR before tumbling into the couch. 

Billy brought the bottle and glasses and poured them generous drinks before flopping back on the couch. Naturally, she sat too close to Stevie, her thigh unnaturally warm. 

“Cheers,” Stevie said, and they clinked glasses and drank. 

“So we’re not even going to pretend that I’m helping you with math?” Stevie asked after taking a sip. 

“I also used the words booze, Harrington. In my experience homework and drinking don’t go well together.” 

“Did you even bring your textbook?” This wasn’t a tutoring session, Stevie realized. This was Billy twisting the teacher’s request that she get some help to catch up, and banking on Miss Salazar’s being too polite to object when Billy volunteered her. 

Billy smiled wickedly into the edge of her glass. “Pretty girl like you doesn’t use her brain much, huh?” Stevie rolled her eyes but her throat stuck a little. 

“God, you’re a piece of work.” 

“Thanks, babe. Only a matter of time before someone paints me nude.” 

Stevie made a gagging noise, and Billy laughed, running a hand through her long hair.

They drank and watched the figures on tv. It was a black and white film from the fifties or sixties, and the effect made everything look so smooth, so clean. Immaculate. 

“As much as I like whatever weird ass movie this is, and I don’t, I can’t imagine this house doesn’t have MTV. Or literally any other movies.” 

Stevie slouched down to lean her head on the back of the couch. 

“You should learn to appreciate something besides horror and action movies, Hargrove. Might help with those anger issues.” 

Billy flipped her off but didn’t actually appear mad. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just drinking and playing a game of chicken over couch space. 

“Your mom was famous, right?” 

Stevie flicked her eyes over to find Billy already looking at her. She leaned over to set her drink down and pulled her knees to her chest. 

“Yeah. Not that many people recognize her these days, though. She mostly played mobster’s pretty young wives or daughters, and those kinds of movies don’t appeal to everybody. She stopped after I was born. ” 

She leaned her head back and turned in Billy’s direction. Her eyes were soft, but then they twinkled like usual. 

“You must have gotten your looks from your dad,” Billy said. 

Stevie shot her hand out to smack Billy’s arm, so quick her hand was a blur even to herself, but Billy caught her wrist tightly. 

Suddenly the air was thick, and the tv sounded louder. Billy gripped her wrist with one hand, a little tightly, but close to her chest. Stevie could feel her pulse throbbing in her wrist. Billy must have felt it too. 

“Careful,” she said quietly. “Don’t want to spill anything on your mom’s nice couch.” 

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Billy slowly let go, briefly drawing her thumb across Stevie’s palm as she did. 

Billy took a long drink as Stevie pulled a pillow into her lap, watching the actors move across a huge living room not unlike the one they sat in. Stevie sat up to get her glass, which Billy handed to her without looking as she refilled her own. Billy glanced at her as she drank the last of it, and then took it to pour more for her, only the noise of the movie between them. 

“I thought you didn’t have any manners, but I guess you just choose not to use them.” 

Billy held her glass just out of reach, playing. 

“That’s a funny way of saying please.” 

“You’re in my house drinking my alcohol, idiot.” Billy grinned wider. 

“Guess this one’s mine,” she said, and took a sip. Stevie stared at her, utterly unimpressed, which seemed to just amuse Billy more. 

“If you’re that desperate for a secondhand kiss there’s also a fork I used in the sink.” 

“What makes you think I want a secondhand kiss, princess?” Billy said it as if she was stupid, practically batted her eyes. Stevie set the pillow down and turned to sit on her side. Billy took another sip, daring her. 

And then Stevie reached over her to grab Billy’s drink on the side table, her knees braced against Billy’s thighs. Billy didn’t bother to move, didn’t give her any extra space. So when Stevie pulled away with the drink, she looked right at Billy, took a long swallow. 

“What’s a girl gotta do to get a cigarette around here?” Billy said once Stevie was done, voice smooth as velvet. Stevie licked the wetness off her top lip. 

“We have to go outside, it would be a bitch to get the smell out of the cushions.”

Billy gestured to the hallway. “Lead the way.”

That was how they ended up on her parents’ balcony. She didn’t like smoking near the pool, because...and she didn’t like how anybody could see her when she smoked out front. Not that she loved smoking, but. It was soothing, and it was something to do. Though she would lose her shit if she saw the kids smoking, naturally.

“Where’s your jacket? I’m sure as hell not keeping you warm.” 

Billy looked up at her as she shook out a cigarette. Stevie was definitely expecting one. 

“A little cold never hurt anybody. Besides, it’s only for a few minutes,” Billy said, dangling a cigarette from her lips and holding one out to Stevie. 

She took it, and patted her parka pockets for a lighter. “I believe the term is hypothermia. Pretty lame way to die.”

Billy leaned in close, cupped a hand around Stevie’s cigarette, her own still unlit between her lips. “Worried about me, Harrington?” She flicked the flame out, watched as Stevie inhaled. 

She leaned back and blew out to the side before grimacing. “What the fuck is this? Dried plastic?”

Billy chuckled, lighting her own. “The cheaper, the better.” She blew it right into Stevie’s face, so she flipped her off. 

Stevie leaned backwards against the balcony, preferring to look into her parent’s huge, white-carpeted room. Billy did the same. 

“You really are home alone a lot, aren’t you?” She said after a few moments of peace. 

Stevie looked up, exhaled towards the nearly-black sky. “It’s not the picnic you’re probably imagining.”

“Didn’t say that,” Billy said, and Stevie had to look at her, surprised. Everyone thought it was heaven, or at least everyone her age. Billy was studying the canopy bed, rolling her cigarette between her thumb and forefinger. Stevie took a drag, then looked back at the sliding glass window. 

“That being said, I would kill to live alone,” Billy admitted. 

“Teenage angst?”

Billy snorted. “Something like that.” She flicked her cigarette so it spun in the air before landing right in front of her shoe, and then she stepped on it. Stevie glared, pointedly crushed her cigarette on the banister, and then threw it towards the dark woods. Billy grinned, cocked her head so her curls fell away from her neck. 

“Are you fucking serious,” Stevie muttered, but took care of Billy’s cigarette. Then Billy slung an arm around her shoulders, practically draping herself all over her as they walked inside, and said, “So, there must be something you’re hiding if you’d rather do this than be Queen of all Buttfuck, Indiana. What have you got? Weed? Qualuudes? A drawer full of vibrators?”

Stevie glanced to the side. “You’re welcome to fuck off at any point, Billy.”

It was the first time she’d called her by her name--outside of her own head--and Billy definitely noticed, because she smiled hard and jerked her closer as they walked through her parent’s bedroom, brushing her breasts against Stevie’s arm. 

“How could I leave when you’re saying my name like that?” And god, she hated it, but Stevie’s chest felt hot and tight. She shoved Billy off as they got to the stairs, making her laugh as she stomped down to the first floor. 

Then the phone rang, and Stevie rushed to pick it up as Billy stretched all over the couch. 

“Hello?”

“Stevie, hi.” Mrs Byers said. “I just got home. I might be mistaken, but I thought you were getting Will home tonight.” She frowned, ran a hand through her hair. 

“They said they would walk, or catch the bus.” Mrs Byers clicked her tongue. 

“Well, those little troublemakers are bending the rules. It’s awfully dark for them to still be out, they should know that.”

“I can go get him,” Stevie offered. She felt bad, the kids wandering around when it was cold and somewhat dangerous, even if it was their own damn fault. 

“Would you? Jane is doing homework with Nate. They have a project due or I would bother them.” Stevie twisted the phone cord around her hand once, twice. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. It was no trouble in the first place.” 

“Stevie, you’re a wonderful girl. I hope your parents remember that,” she said. It didn’t sound judgemental or pitying, just nice in a way that made Stevie’s heart hurt, so she didn’t mind. 

“I’ll leave now,” she said. 

“I’ll make sure Will and Jane know they owe you one.”

Stevie smiled a little. “Sure. Bye, Mrs Byers.”

“You know to call me Joyce by now, surely.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Stevie.” 

She hung up and sighed. “So much for doing nothing tonight. I have to go find Will, and probably the others.” 

Billy looked out from under her eyelashes. “That’s the kid with the hot dad, right? The one who’s all stubble and shoulders.”

Stevie scrunched her nose. “No, that’s Mike and Nate’s dad. And don’t be nasty, Billy. He’s literally old enough to be your dad.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s your ex’s dad, Harrington. Though wouldn’t that be some good revenge?”

“You get more unbelievable every time you open your mouth.” She set her glass down on the table. “Alright, let’s go.”

“What’s the big deal? Not like the kid can’t get home by himself.” 

She slipped on her shoes and jacket and then looked back at Billy, who was still sprawled out on the couch. Arms spread along the back, as if she owned it. 

“They’re like ants, Hargrove. There’s never just one. I wouldn’t be surprised if Max was with them.” 

“Fuck,” Billy said, face twisting. “You’re right. That little idiot never does anything she’s told.” She slammed her glass down on the coffee table with a click, and some of it slopped over the edge. 

“Just because you’re mad doesn’t mean you can break my glasses,” Stevie said, annoyed. “Or say shit like that about your sister.” 

Billy flashed her eyes up. “She’s not my sister. And I’ll say what I fucking want. You need to tell those little shits to stop encouraging her.” 

She grabbed her keys and looked sideways at Billy, mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Kids do things they shouldn’t. I’m sure you of all people are familiar with the concept.” 

Billy stood up sharply and prowled toward Stevie. 

“Just because you have no friends, Harrington,” she sneered, “And you let your twelve-year-old boyfriend and his friends walk all over you like you’re a fucking welcome mat, doesn’t mean I will.”

“Jesus, you’re a bitch,” Stevie said, clenching her keys in her fist. She regretted having Billy over so intensely that she couldn’t even imagine what had possessed her when she had let her in. Billy smiled meanly, eyes dark and teeth bright. 

“Yeah. Make sure they keep that in mind next time they try to convince her to stay out late.” 

Stevie tilted her chin up ever so slightly in challenge and dropped her voice low. 

“You sure you want to threaten them? Did you already forget about the bat? I have it somewhere around here if you need a reminder.” She glanced down, pretending to remember something. “Unless Max still has it.” 

Billy’s whole body started vibrating with energy, her mouth twisted downwards. 

“You want to go again, rich bitch? I’m sure your loser parents have some real nice china I could break over your head.”

Stevie squeezed her eyes shut and reminded herself to breathe. Then she opened them and strode over to the door to yank it open. “Lovely to have you, now get the fuck out of my house. Try not to speed into a tree on your way home.” 

Billy laughed manically, the open door letting gusts of cold air in. After a tense minute she slunk toward it, her shoulder smacking Stevie’s as she stepped into the night.

“Good to be back to normal, things were getting too chummy. I was even thinking about fucking you.” She looked back, slipping a cigarette between her lips. “And wouldn’t that have been very Twilight Zone?” 

Stevie gripped the edge of the door hard, pressing her lips together. Billy snorted, threw her jacket over one shoulder, and sauntered towards the car. 

“Sounds more like A Nightmare on Elm Street to me,” Stevie said clearly into the night air. 

Billy snapped her door open, got in and slapped it shut, then peeled out of the driveway so fast Stevie’s ears hurt. 

As soon as she couldn’t see the Camaro anymore, she locked the door and raced to her car. “Those little dickweeds!” 

Of course, they were all safe, which was a relief, and annoying, which shouldn’t have been as much of a relief as it was. By the time she found Will, Mike, Lucas and Dustin, Billy had already picked up Max. 

After spending the whole drive to Will’s and then Lucas’ reaming them out for lying to her and not telling anyone where they were, she spent the drive to Mike’s explaining why she was no longer their chauffeur (and god, it was pathetic). At Mike’s she saw Nate smile and wave from the living room window, with Jane just behind him. She felt stupid when she waved back. She barely said anything on the way to Dustin’s, exhausted. At least he seemed appropriately sorry; he didn’t even play with the radio. 

As they pulled into his street, he said, “Not to make you mad again or anything, but you don’t usually care this much when we’re late. It’s not like our parents are going to be angry with you, you’re doing them a favour.” 

Stevie ran a hand through her hair and then glanced at him as she turned into his driveway. “I know. I was just hoping to have a different kind of night. Not think about anything for once.” 

“Oh,” he said, nodding thoughtfully even though he obviously didn’t understand, didn’t feel choked by his thoughts all the time. It was good to see. 

She stopped the car and pulled the bill of his hat down into his face. 

“You twerps should give me more nights off, okay? Say hi to your mom for me.” 

He grinned and got out, sticking his head back in to say, “I will!” and then: “When did you get that shirt?”

**Author's Note:**

> Billy and Stevie are not an example of a model romance k thx
> 
> & also don't drink and drive kids k thx bye 4 real


End file.
